


Lost and Found

by EarthsickWithoutYou



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adventure, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-03-15 04:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13605942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarthsickWithoutYou/pseuds/EarthsickWithoutYou
Summary: When a metahuman toddler is left outside Star Labs, Caitlin and Harry take it upon themselves to take care of the little girl and investigate the mystery surrounding her.  In the process, they realize they are in love, but what will it take to get them to say it out loud?





	1. Tongue-tied and twisted

Rain pelted the window mercilessly, and the noise of water smacking glass roused Harry Wells from the formula he was scribbling on the board. Setting his marker down, he slipped two fingers under his glasses, rubbing his tired eyes. 

“You look like I feel,” Caitlin Snow complained, stretching her arms and legs as she spun slowly back and forth in her chair. “It’s so late, Harry.” She yawned, petting her mouth in a charmingly lady-like manner. “What are we still doing here?”

“Working,” he said drily. “And forgetting to look at the clock, apparently. Do you want a ride home?”

“I can drive myself home, the van’s free for anyone to use.” Caitlin paused after she said the words, like she’d perhaps realized that since he lived at work, he might have come to think of the Star Labs van as his own vehicle in some way. She was so honest in her expressions that he could read her frustration with herself for blurting the words, followed by concern that he must be lonely stuck here in a tiny room, away from his own Earth. She opened and shut her mouth again, unsure how to follow up her misstep, but Harry hastened to reassure her.

“It’s fine, Snow. I was just trying to be a gentleman.” He flipped the keys around his fingers invitingly. “So what do you say? It’s raining cats and dogs out there.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s fine?’” Caitlin asked curiously.

“I mean, I can tell you’re worried about me living here and being lonely and stuff, but it’s fine, I’m fine.”

“Harry, since when can you read minds? Been siphoning off of Cecile’s powers? And by the way, it’s normal for your friends to be a little worried when you hole yourself up here for weeks at a time, only going out on missions and for Big Belly Burger.” Caitlin pressed her lips together thoughtfully, like he was a problem she was going to solve. Harry really wasn’t sure he hated the idea.

“Hey, I think you’re exaggerating. After all, lots of people live alone. _You_ live alone,” he added, pointing at Caitlin to emphasize the admittedly weak point.

“I live alone,” she replied smoothly, pulling on her white raincoat, “In an _apartment._ Not stuffed away in the spare room of my workplace like the resident Harry _Potter._ You could have more of a life than that, and you know it.” She followed him as they descended to the ground floor and headed to the front entrance. 

“I can’t go out too much; people will think I’m the Evil Wells,” Harry explained. “Let me tell you, that is just never fun.”

“Don’t think you’re fooling me with that,” Caitlin said wryly, taking his ubiquitous hat from his hand and slapping it playfully onto his head. “That’s why you have your black baseball cap of mystery.”

“I’ll go out when I want to go out,” Harry argued futilely, grabbing the hat off of his unruly mop of black hair and setting it down backwards on Caitlin’s head. Damn, that looked cute.

She laughed at his unexpected move and then gave a violent start, almost leaping right off the ground in her elegant, cream-colored heels. “Harry!” Caitlin exclaimed in shock. Her finger shot out at the scene just outside the glass doors to Star Labs, prompting Harry to glance in that direction. He did a double-take at the sight of a toddler standing there on wobbly, chubby legs, crying her eyes out. Just as they’d noticed her, the little girl’s quiet sniffles had exploded to a full-on tantrum, frightening Caitlin until her handbag hit the floor.

“No need to panic, Caitlin; it’s just a baby,” Harry announced as she lurched forward and yanked the door open, guiding the poor child inside by her shoulders.

Caitlin crouched down in front of the girl, sweeping her coat off and wrapping it around the little one, whose screams had lowered to a severe whimper. “A baby standing alone, outside in the pouring rain, on our doorstep,” Caitlin clarified. “That’s cause for a little panic at least, Harry.”

He knelt down beside them, examining the child until he noticed that a note was sticking out of her pocket. The top edge was wet, but the ink remained intact on the hurriedly composed message, which he read aloud. “‘I can’t protect her anymore,’” he said, worry lacing his tone in spite of his habitual attempt to remain cool no matter what occurred. “‘They’re coming. Please help.’ Well, that’s ominous.”

“Thank you, Admiral Obvious,” Caitlin murmured, stroking the girl’s cheek as she gazed back in wide-eyed confusion. “Yes, I just promoted you from Captain to Admiral, Harry, congratulations.” She was trying to stay composed, but terror and automatic protectiveness had flashed in her soft brown eyes as she heard that there was some threat existing against this child.

“You’ve been hanging out with me too much,” Harry accused, “You’re getting really sarcastic lately.”

The little girl spoke at last, waving a hand back and forth between Caitlin and Harry, trying to vocalize a question as to who they were using very limited vocabulary. “Wife,” she said finally in an adorably tiny, high-pitched squeak, pointing to Caitlin. “Husband,” she added when her finger landed in Harry’s direction.

Caitlin laughed. “Oh, no, honey, we’re not married.”

“That would be ridiculous,” Harry overcompensated, shaking his head.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Caitlin asked the toddler, picking her up and propping her at her hip like she’d seen moms do. Harry’s eyes followed the easy, instinctive motion with interest.

“Fweida,” the tot answered emphatically, proudly.

“Frida,” Caitlin repeated, “What a pretty name for such a pretty girl.”

“Yes, and as a matter of fact, she’s incredibly well-dressed, clean, meticulously cared for,” Harry noted, walking around the females in a circle. Caitlin noticed Frida’s bright pink Hello Kitty rain slicker and matching boots, plus the My Melody hairband that gathered her dark, dripping strands into a ponytail at the top of her head. A fancy white dress protruded from the bottom of the raincoat, and the girl carried a little pocketbook as well. “Someone loves this child very much.”

“They must have been scared out of their mind to leave her here, but why do you think they chose this place?” Caitlin puzzled over the matter. “What if she’s a meta, Harry?”

“Seems like a distinct possibility. Can you do anything special, Frida?”

Frida smiled like a diva and loudly counted to ten, saying seven twice and forgetting the nine.

“Fantastic, honey,” Caitlin giggled, tickling the girl’s stomach. As she drew her hand back and adjusted her hold on Frida, she noticed something else. “Oh, her diaper is wet.”

“I hungwy,” Frida announced, looking accusingly at Harry and Caitlin as if they should have known this without being told.

Looking intimidated, Caitlin sighed. “Oh, no. I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby, Harry. What are we gonna do?” 

Harry took the child from Caitlin’s arms, everything about his movements soothingly confident. “It’ll be okay,” he told Caitlin calmly. Their eyes met during the simple, natural-feeling exchange and his heart skipped a beat as if everything had just changed. Caitlin looked back, a similarly surprised expression on her face. Her cheeks turned pink and her mauve-tinted mouth opened in a small “O” of realization she kept internalized. 

“I, uh,” he moved on, clearing his throat and reminding himself there was no time to think about his feelings for Caitlin at this moment, “I know how to take care of a kid, Snow. I’ll help you out.”


	2. I've got a million dollar smile, I can live in your dreams

“Great job,” Caitlin fumed as Harry threw his hands up in frustration. “Mr. I-Know-Everything-About-Kids. Mr. Let-Me-Handle-This-Caitlin. After all your bragging and acting like I'm sooo clueless, you seriously don’t even know why she’s crying?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over Frida’s wailing as the toddler sat on a blanket in the middle of the floor, toys scattered all around her. A juice cup and several snack options were placed there as well, but nothing seemed to keep the child happy.

“No, I’m so sorry, Ms. I-Will-Torture-Harry-for-Every-Dumb-Thing-he-Ever-Said. I don’t know. And by the way, you told me you were clueless. I was just doing my best to teach you basic childcare.” Harry perched his hands on his hips, glaring at her but looking as threatening as a puppy dog in a cinnamon roll costume.

Caitlin calmed down at his apology even though it was sarcastic. She let Harry get away with murder sometimes, and she knew it.

“You really can’t make a guess?” She asked, but he shook his head in defeat.

“For the millionth time today, Caitlin, I’m not psychic. I don’t have a clue.” His condescending remark renewed her irritation with him.

“Didn’t Jesse ever cry like this when she already had all of her basic needs seen to?”

“If she did, I must have forgotten how I dealt with it,” Harry explained. 

“You forgot? What are you, five hundred and eighty-seven years old?” Caitlin exclaimed, crossing her arms and stepping closer.

“No, Snow,” Harry said through clenched teeth, moving closer as well. A hurt look shot across his face but he kept his tone cold as ice. “I am not five hundred and eighty-seven years old.”

Cisco stepped between them, noticing that they were standing so close, he had to nudge his hands in to separate them. Then he made a “T” with his fingers. “Time Out, you guys. Let’s talk this through.”

“He started it,” Caitlin snapped petulantly.

“She continued it,” Harry argued.

“Oh my God!” Iris objected. “Who’s the toddler here?” Frida stopped crying and stared at Iris as though she’d said something absurd.

“I a toddla,” Frida pointed out, picking up her cup and taking a slurp.

“Well, you certainly wouldn’t think Frida was the only two year old, listening to you carrying on,” Barry nodded at Caitlin and Harry.

Joe looked slightly horrified at the wild scene he and Cecile had stumbled into as the door closed behind them. “We came as soon as we heard,” he explained slowly. “What is going on? Honey, can you shed any light on this?”

Cecile looked over at Caitlin and Harry with bright, wide eyes. “Sure, just don’t ask me what those two are thinking because _wow,_ just…wow. What a mess.”

“It’s my fault,” Harry sighed, reaching a hand out to rest on Caitlin’s shoulder but drawing it back again, making her wish he’d gone through with it. She hadn’t meant to keep snapping at him like that, and now that magical, almost overtly flirtatious vibe that had been building up between them these last few months was tarnished. _Dammit,_ Caitlin thought darkly. _It’s my fault._

“We didn’t get any sleep last night, and Caitlin here has been working so hard to try and keep this kid comfortable and happy. I’m not sure either one of us knows which end is up by this point,” Harry elaborated as the other team members nodded sympathetically. They had started with a trip to Target to get the supplies they had needed. Frida had surrendered to a deep slumber by 8pm, but her new caretakers had worn themselves ragged searching every database to try and find out where Frida came from and who her parents might be.

“Harry, you helped just as much,” Caitlin added with a pained smile, moved that he tried to give her all the credit.

“You two should get some sleep,” Barry stated sensibly. “You won’t be any use to Frida if you’re fumbling around like the walking dead.”

“In a few minutes,” Caitlin promised, even though her eyelids ached to close and her bones felt heavy. “I want to hear what Cecile can gather from Frida’s thoughts first.”  


Harry’s body, so close beside her, felt warm, his skin smelling of soap and aftershave. The temptation to give into the magnetic pull he had on her and simply collapse into his arms was overwhelming. Exhaustion had put her instincts in charge so that Caitlin had to rouse her brain to fight them and maintain social norms such as: do not do a trust fall into your co-worker’s arms out of nowhere because you crave their touch.

Cecile sat down on the blanket next to Frida. “Hello, sweetheart,” she cooed, setting up a row of Little People figures for the child to play with. “She’s scared of everything outside — except for her mother, but she feels safe here,” Cecile observed, reading Frida’s thoughts. “Some strangers have been following Frida and her mom for a while…it’s hard because she doesn’t understand time…could be days or weeks. Started with seeing the same faces on the streets wherever they went, and then it escalated until they were being chased. They wanted the boom? What?”

“The boom?” Iris repeated confusedly.

“Da boom,” Frida said calmly just before Harry’s tablet exploded next to him on the console, making everyone jump in surprise. “I bwing the boom.” She exploded the juice cup, splashing sticky apple liquid all over Cecile’s lavender maternity dress, the cold shock making the newly psychic D.A. gasp.

“Well,” Cecile said, grabbing some napkins from next to Cisco’s coffee cup and dabbing at her dress, “Now we know that she’s a meta, and what she can do.”

“Right,” Harry said, flinching at the sight of his tablet now lying in pieces on the floor. “But the ‘boom’ — is it just for objects, or should we be worried about other manifestations? Just asking because age two is prime tantrum territory and—”

“—If Frida can explode organic matter as well, we might be in serious danger,” Caitlin finished. 

Cecile closed her eyes and reconnected with the toddler’s mind. “Frida can’t do it to people,” she concluded with a sigh of relief. “She tried to make the ‘bad people’ go boom when they were after her and her mom, but nothing happened.”

Frida laid down on the blanket, rubbing her soft, plump cheek into the plush material. “Sweepy,” she announced. “Tiwad.”

“Somebody needs a nap,” Joe noticed, “Maybe we can take her home for a little while, give you guys a break?” Cecile nodded kindly, ready for some mom practice and happy to help out.

“No,” Frida insisted, reaching her arms out to Caitlin. “Caylin. Hawwy.” The other team members exchanged surprised and intrigued looks at the display. Clearly, Frida had latched onto Caitlin and Harry in a distinct manner, very quickly.

“Okay, honey,” Caitlin said, lifting the girl with strength she didn’t know she had left. “I’m sure Harry won’t mind if you get some shut-eye in his bed.”

“I’ll help you put her down for a nap,” Harry offered, following the pair to his room. “I used to be really good at this.”

“I would have thought you were at work during the days back then,” Caitlin murmured, pulling the sheets down and positioning Frida neatly in the middle of the bed. She stroked the little girl’s forehead and Frida nestled into the pillows.

Unable to resist a little rest, Caitlin laid down beside the toddler, propping her head up on one elbow. Harry looked at her intently before explaining, “Yeah, well, my wife usually took care of Jesse at that time during the week, but I used to look forward to reading her stories and singing her songs on the weekends.”

His wife. This was a subject they’d never discussed, and a strange mix of feelings, like intense curiosity and unfair jealousy, spiked in Caitlin until she didn’t quite know what to say.

Still, she managed to follow up with a quiet, amused, “You _sang?_ ”

“Yes, I sang, Snow, impossible as that might sound to you; I happen to have an excellent singing voice. It’s too bad for you that Frida’s already falling asleep with zero help from me, because otherwise you might have been treated to a performance.”

Caitlin chortled at his typically not-humble description. “Is there anything you don’t excel at?” She asked the question teasingly, but the sexy look he shot her switched the mood back to serious.

“Very few things,” Harry said as their eyes locked, searching each other’s faces for answers they weren’t ready to give. “Hey,” he resumed, forcing himself to be more casual, “You have a nap with Frida, Snow. I’ll just sit over here and keep working on our search.” He propped up a pillow and climbed into bed on the other side of Frida, crossing his long legs and opening his laptop, starting to type.

Seeing him there like that made Caitlin feel yet more weird combinations of emotions. He looked totally comfortable to be on the same bed with her. But was it because he longed to be near her, or because he considered their relationship so safely platonic that he assumed Caitlin knew better than to read into his proximity? Gazing at his handsome and thoughtful profile as he studied the screen, Caitlin realized that having him there after such a stressful night made her feel incredibly protected and at ease. Plus…she pressed her cheek into the pillow and let out a soft sigh. The pillowcase smelled like Harry. _Mmm,_ this was a little too heavenly and suggestive, sleeping in his bed. She loved it.

“Sweet dreams, Caitlin,” Harry said gently, and she couldn’t have agreed more. 

She woke about an hour later to see Harry still sitting up, having fallen fast asleep without meaning to. His head was tilted at an awkward angle guaranteed to give him stiff neck unless she interceded. Caitlin reached over the snoring Frida and grabbed the laptop, silently closing it and sliding it onto the floor beside the bed. Then she slipped out of the sheets, crept over to Harry, and carefully nudged his body down until his head could rest on the pillow. Caitlin smiled at his innocent sleeping expression and pulled the sheets up to his shoulders, placing his glasses aside before tiptoeing back to her side of the bed. She let the warmth of the moment wash over her, her mind whispering romantic promises of things to come with Harry that she knew she shouldn’t put her faith in. Was it foolish of her that she just couldn’t help doing so anyway?

**************************************************************************

“Hey guys,” Cisco’s voice piped up some time later, a casual knock sounding against Harry’s open door. “I—” His tongue was stilled at the sight that met him: Caitlin and Harry fast sleep, a slowly stirring Frida in between them mumbling the nonsensical, half-awake musings of a two year old. Caitlin’s hand rested comfortingly at Frida’s side, while Harry’s had landed on top of Caitlin’s fingers, like it was meant to be there. It occurred to him that he was interrupting something delicate and special, something he hadn’t managed to piece together until this moment, so Cisco turned to go, but Frida had noticed him.

“Long haired boy!” Frida grinned, sitting bolt upright as Harry and Caitlin woke up, dazed by the depth of their slumber. 

“Ramon,” Harry grumbled, withdrawing his hand from Caitlin’s as he realized she’d been holding onto his fingers as well. The butterflies in his stomach which Caitlin controlled were at it again, especially when he looked at her angelic face as she woke. He shoved his glasses back on, wondering when he had taken them off, or fallen asleep for that matter. “What do you want?”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” Cisco said with a laugh. “I made a super-cool obstacle course for Frida, and Joe came back with take-out for lunch. Come on, Boomer, let’s go.” He crooked a finger, and Caitlin helped Frida out from the blankets, setting her down on the floor where she padded over to Cisco and took his hand with a giggle. 

“Long-haired boy has long hair,” she laughed as he led her out, leaving Harry and Caitlin to realize they were sitting in bed together, alone.

Harry almost leaped out, causing Caitlin to look at him mildly offended. “I’m not going to bite, you know,” she joked, which only ensured that his next thought was _I wouldn’t mind if you did._

“I know that, of course, I just uh…wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or sort of…cross any lines. I was unconscious, so I didn’t realize I was holding your hand like that, and um…” Harry was baffled at the words as they spilled out of his mouth. Why couldn’t he seem to make sense?

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Caitlin sniffed, standing primly and making the bed as he did the same on the other side, the moment still inevitably domestic. “I can handle it.” Then she turned on her heel and took off down the hall, leaving him to wonder what exactly he should do with himself.

*************************************************************************************

“Well, I found her,” Cisco announced by late afternoon. He hit pause on the hazy security footage on the computer screen, having managed to isolate a single shot from the bus meta tape that Harry and Caitlin had missed in their bleary-eyed exhaustion the evening before. “Crouching behind the seat, right there.”  


Everyone gathered around and squinted at the sight of Frida, being urged to lower herself to a safe position by her frightened mother. “So, Meta bus origin story,” Cisco pointed out. 

“Not only does Frida have powers, but her mom probably does, too,” Iris guessed logically.

“If so, why did she feel so certain she herself could no longer protect her daughter?” Harry mused, rubbing his chin.

“I’ve got a theory -- not about that question, but about another important point,” Caitlin said all of a sudden, looking up from the desk across the way. Frida was balanced on her lap, eating chicken tenders and fries like it was her job. “I think I know who might be threatening them, and I’m going to investigate. Here, can someone….” She looked around, instinctively planning to pass Frida off to Harry, but he shook his head.

“You’re not going alone, I’ll ride shotgun,” he suggested, grabbing his energy rifle. “Literally.”

“Oh, the cheesiness factor is at an all-time-high when you like a girl,” Cisco said through his teeth, only Harry catching his words.

“Shut up, Ramon, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry insisted unconvincingly.

“Okay, thanks,” Caitlin shrugged. She smiled as Joe lifted Frida onto his lap in Caitlin's stead, immediately asking if he could share her fries and making the girl laugh. Already, Frida was starting to feel like part of the Star Labs family. Caitlin didn’t want to let herself realize it, but she was going to miss Frida once they solved this mystery and hopefully reunited the child with her mom.

“So where are we headed, Snow?” Harry inquired, noticing the dead-set, take-no-prisoners look on her face as she slid behind the driver’s seat of the van.

“To look up a former employer,” Caitlin explained. “Amunet Black.”


	3. Just to be with you is all I'm thinking of

“I think she’s just lonely, and that’s why she was crying earlier,” Harry said as Caitlin drove as slowly as she could force herself to on the way to Amunet’s headquarters — in other words, she was only exceeding the speed limit by ten miles per hour.

“Who, Frida?” Caitlin asked, glancing over at his pensive expression as he looked out the window, chewing on his lower lip. 

“Yeah,” he replied, his crystal gaze returning to her and making Caitlin yearn to kiss him more than ever. He was bared to her in that instant, the honesty of his emotion shining through. She didn’t have to ask if he sensed Frida’s loneliness because he knew the feeling so well; that truth was written all over his face. For now, anyway, Harry had stopped hiding from her. She rushed to encourage a continuation of this, the closeness between them she’d longed for, fearing he didn’t want the same.

“What makes you say that?” Caitlin asked softly.

“Well, even if you have everything else in the world you need, _and_ even when you’re surrounded by plenty of perfectly nice people, if the one person you love most in the world is gone, you can easily feel lonely enough to cry.” Harry’s voice broke slightly over the last phrase and Caitlin’s heart followed suit. “For Frida, that one person is her Mom, but we’ve all known that feeling about someone.”

“Harry,” she began slowly, tentatively, “I know we never talked before, about your wife. And it’s kind of crazy when you think about it, given that we share this one huge experience in common, being widowed. But we never really touched on the subject. I wonder why.”

“I think because…I know that you know that I know,” Harry suggested. “You know?” They both laughed briefly at his repetition, but she understood him completely.

“Yes, we know. The weight of losing your spouse like that, how it hovers over you every day. Sometimes it’s suffocating and sometimes it’s just a looming threat to pull you back under the grief. I’ve cried so hard I thought I’d run out of tears,” she confessed, only to feel his fingers covering her own on the steering wheel, just for a moment. Enough to make her feel infinitely better.

“Yeah. Until your throat sort of closes over and you can’t speak for a while. No voice. Just thoughts, regrets…too many regrets,” Harry contemplated. “I’m sorry for your loss, Caitlin.”

“And I’m sorry for yours, Harry,” Caitlin replied, “You can talk to me about it anytime. If, uh, if there’s ever _anything_ you want or need to talk about, I’m here.”

“Likewise, Snow,” Harry said, straightening in his seat. “Anyway, maybe Frida was crying for no reason at all. Two year olds are notorious for that.”

He had to change the subject because they were getting so much closer, and along with the growing feelings he had for Caitlin came the possibility of getting hurt again, or worse, the chance of hurting _her._

It was strange to think that mere days ago, she’d found Harry’s motives and behavior towards her to be so mysterious. Now the truth between them seemed so plain and inevitable.

**************************************************************************************

“Okay, remind me why we’re here,” Caitlin requested as they approached the door of the old warehouse where Amunet and her minions were currently holed up.

“Because Amunet has probably been stalking a mother and child, trying to kidnap them and sell them to the highest bidders,” Harry replied simply, knowing her intention.

Caitlin’s lips curled, then turned from red to silver as her hair shifted to white. “Thanks,” Killer Frost purred. “I may be no saint, but as far as I’m concerned, messing with a kid crosses the line. Let’s go.” 

“Ah, well, if it isn’t Frosty the Snow-vamp and Star Labs’ resident hunky nerd,” Amunet remarked, striding up to them with vague interest. “What can I do to make you leave so that I can continue working in peace?”

Killer Frost smirked derisively. “Tell us everything you know about the little girl from the meta bus,” she demanded. “Or I’ll replace your throat with an especially large icicle.”

“Ew,” Amunet complained, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “Fine, fine, I did want the little runt, but she managed to elude me somehow. Do _you_ have Superbaby, by any chance?”

“Her name is Frida,” Harry said, his tone as icy as any tool Killer Frost could conjure. “Do you know where her mother is?”

“Sort of? Her powers were nothing all that extraordinary; she can hack with her mind, but if you ask me, that’s hardly marketable. Plenty of people can do that with their fingers and half the trouble. Still, my employer wanted her, said she played into his current scheme in ways my ‘tiny, pathetic mind’ could never fathom. Whatever, good riddance, I say.” Amnuet ended her careless speech by throwing her black-tipped fingers in the air.

“Who does that haughty, ‘you can never comprehend the immensity of my genius plan’ spiel remind _you_ of?” Harry asked Killer Frost, who shrugged.

“I think you forget who you’re talking to, professor Geekbot,” Frost replied, “Because I haven’t got a clue. Hey, magnets-for-brains, what can you tell us about Frida’s mother’s current location? Before you ask what’s in it for you, given that you’re all alone at the moment, I’ll just remind you that your life is basically on the line here.”

Amnuet grinned. “Sweetie, I’m never alone. I’ve just got sort of a weak spot for you and Caity Cat. My guards are all around us in the rafters, and with one nod, they will end you before your frozen heart can pound out another sarcastic beat. That said, I _am_ busy, so why don’t you just trot along to that bar where your alter ego used to sling whiskey sours and check the basement? I’m pretty sure my boss has been stowing his involuntary friends there for a while now. On your way now!”

“Thanks,” Killer Frost nodded to Amunet, her trademark fierceness fading for one second. When they were back in the van, she changed back to Caitlin and Harry launched into a recap of the intel they’d gathered.

“Sounds like a standard Clifford DeVoe monologue,” Caitlin said when he got to the bragging mystery boss part of the tale.

“My thoughts exactly. We’re headed straight to the lion’s den, Caitlin, are you ready?” Harry’s firm hands on the steering wheel clarified his own resolve, hardening her own through mutual sense of purpose and the affection which had so quickly formed in them for Frida.

“Let’s go save Frida’s mom,” Caitlin suggested immediately.

********************************************************************************

“Well, that was a total bust,” she had to announce later on, opening the front door of her apartment where Joe was babysitting Frida. As Caitlin and Harry entered, their frustration at not finding the little girl’s mother where Amunet had thought she would be was interrupted by the sight of Joe sitting and crying on the couch.

“Are you okay?” Caitlin asked.

“Have you guys _seen_ this movie?” Joe asked, wiping his eyes with a tissue as Frida looked out from around his arm, which she’d been nestled under. Caitlin glanced at the t.v., where _Moana_ was playing. “It’s extraordinary. Te Ka was really Te Fiti all along!”

“Oh, Joe,” she sighed in admiration, sitting beside Frida as the child climbed onto her lap and hugged her tightly. “You’re going to make a great dad. Again.”

“Thanks, Caitlin,” Joe smiled. “Now I gotta go home and tell Cecile to watch this movie. I’ll see y’all later.”

“Goodnight, Joe,” Harry said quietly, sitting in the spot vacated by the detective.

“What are we gonna do for dinner?” Caitlin wondered listlessly as Frida climbed into her lap. “Should I order more takeout?”

“No, that’s okay, I’ll cook,” Harry announced purposefully, heading into the kitchen. “What’ve you got around here, anyway?”

“Not much,” she admitted, “And since when do you cook?” Caitlin slipped her hand onto the spot at the base of her skull where her tension seemed to be currently situated, loosening her tousled waves before rolling her shoulders back. Nothing was working. She was going to be on edge until they saved Frida’s mom.

“Well, I may not cook _anymore_ , but I used to. I was good at it, too. Hmm, let’s see now…” Harry opened and closed the fridge, then flipped through the cupboards. “Aha,” he pronounced, whipping a large sack of flour out of one cabinet before turning to take the milk and eggs out of the fridge. “Do you have baking powder and sugar?”

“I think so,” she mused, walking over with Frida on her hip. The little girl wound several strands of Caitlin’s hair around her finger and twirled it with fascination. 

“Caylin is pwetty,” Frida declared, embracing her warmly as Caitlin’s heart melted. She had to fight the feelings of attachment she felt for the girl, but it was painfully difficult to do so.

“She sure is,” Harry answered automatically. Then he felt Caitlin’s questioning gaze on him and blushed, wiping his floury fingers on his jeans. “Uh, from any objective standpoint, you’re quite attractive, Snow.”

“Yeah?” Caitlin raised her eyebrows, intrigued by his sudden bout of shyness.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking into her eyes with a sensual smile, then shaking his head in mild reprimand at her stance of cluelessness on the subject. “C’mon, you own a mirror. You know you got it.”

“Wha you makin’?” Frida asked, her eyes locked on the mixing bowl Harry was stirring milk into. Her caretakers, now quite red-cheeked, both cleared their throats.

“Pancakes, of course,” Harry explained. “Just like I used to make for Jesse every Saturday morning. When in doubt, breakfast for dinner always works.”

“Yay!” Frida exclaimed delightedly, prompting Harry to grin affectionately at her. He was getting attached, too, Caitlin thought, her happiness tinged by concern that it was to be fleeting at best.

“I think we need to take it up a notch,” Caitlin decided, grabbing a tub of blueberries from the fridge and rinsing them off in the sink. “Here we go. Can I put them in now?”

“You can,” Harry smiled, continuing to stir the batter. Frida stole several plump berries from Caitlin’s outstretched hand and popped them into her mouth, making Caitlin laugh and steal one back with a little kiss. 

The joy and playfulness of the scene got to be more than Caitlin could actually stand, and Harry frowned, bothered by the way her face fell. She set Frida down, watching the girl toddle off to the living room and start making a tower of blocks on the rug. 

“Hey,” Harry said, noticing that Caitlin was wiping a tear from her cheek, pressing her hand to her lips with a melancholy sigh. He stopped what he was doing, his long fingers pulling back from the skillet he’d been preparing to heat on the stovetop, and took her gently by the shoulders, looking down into her face. “ _Hey._ What’s up, Snow? I…I’m here.”

“I’m never gonna—” She burst into tears, her face burning in embarrassed frustration. “It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s no such thing. Tell me what’s wrong.” His husky voice was tender and reassuring, his hands working magic as he pulled her face against his chest, then kneaded out the painfully coiled muscles in her back. 

“I’m never going to have that, this. I can’t. This is probably the closest I’m ever going to get to being a mom. It’s selfish of me to even be thinking about that when we’ve got so much to do, when we need our heads in the game to protect this girl.” She took a gulping breath, then Harry reached over and grabbed a kleenex from the counter, handing it to her.

“You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, Caitlin. But why do you assume you’ll never have children?” He was genuinely confused, but she would have thought it was so obvious.

“Killer Frost. I mean, clearly, I can never be pregnant because the biological implications are mind-boggling. And I can never adopt either, because how can I expose a child to the dangers that come along with my inability to prevent changing into Frost with the slightest provocation of anger or fear? It makes me feel so _weak._ Like my destiny’s been taken away from me, and I don’t have the strength or the smarts to take it back.” Wow. She had never said this out loud before. The confession felt like a powerful unburdening, and sharing it with _Harry_ of all people felt extremely intimate. 

“How can you say that, when you’re _so_ strong?” Harry’s words made Caitlin crane her head back slightly to look at his face, and he responded to her questioning gaze by clasping her face, his thumbs caressing her jawline. “You’ll be an outstanding mom to some incredibly lucky kid, or kids plural, someday — when it’s time, I know it. Sometimes things seem impossible, but you work through and you forge on and you _believe_ there’s hope until you’re proven right. I can feel that there’s a way for you to have what you want in this life, Caitlin…call it intuition, or maybe just…” He gave a shaky laugh, knowing he was really showing his hand now, opening up to her again. “Maybe I just want it for you so badly.”

“What do you want for me, Harry?” Caitlin asked, touching his hands, rubbing along the bones of his fingers, feeling the heat of his skin against her own. Her heart skittered with pleasurable excitement and their faces inched closer.

“Happiness,” Harry told her quietly, warmly breathing the word against her lips like a promise. 

It was just so easy, then, to lean up a tiny bit further and brush her trembling mouth against Harry’s. The fluttery, almost bashful kiss felt like another secret they were sharing, but within the next moments she heard the spatula he was holding hit the floor with a plunk. Harry pulled her more tightly into his arms, tilting her face and kissing her again, deeply this time, dipping his tongue between her lips as they both made small, aroused sounds of satisfaction. Caitlin’s hands grew bolder too, fastening onto the soft fabric of Harry’s sweater and twisting slightly, drawing his firm torso towards her until they were melded together.

“Where my pancakes?” Frida complained. Harry and Caitlin broke apart to see the little girl standing before them with her hands on her hips.

“S-sorry, honey,” Caitlin rushed to reply, tracing her now very full and tingling lips with her fingers as Harry went through three or four different phases of stammering nonsense and trying to figure out what to do with his hands. “We’ll have them ready in just a few minutes.”

“So,” Harry remarked, picking up the spatula and washing it in the sink before looking back at Caitlin with an adorably pleased expression. “That happened.”

“That _did_ happen. I’ve been wanting _that_ to happen for a while.” Her eyes sparkled as he registered the words with clear incredulousness.

“Wow, I mean, _wow._ I had no idea. I’ve thought about kissing you, Snow, from the first moment we met. You’re amazing, and I just kept thinking, ‘I could never deserve her, I could never give her what she needs.’” Harry shook his head, still processing his own former blindness to Caitlin’s feelings and questioning his past choice to keep holding back from her.

“Sometimes things seem impossible, but you have to hope until you’re proven right,” Caitlin murmured, distracting him again from his cooking, though Frida’s hunger meant they stayed on task this time. Harry poured the batter into the pan and waited for the pancakes to solidify before flipping them. Caitlin rested her head very gently against his back, her fingers resting at his hips, appreciating the flattering fit of his black jeans yet again.

“Yeah?” Harry flipped the pancakes, then grabbed a plate and slid them onto it before starting another batch. She placed the dish on the table, where Frida scrambled eagerly onto her chair and dug in, also gulping the reduced sugar fruit punch which Harry and Caitlin had quickly discovered was the best way to ensure she remained both hydrated and less than super-hyper.

“I think so,” Caitlin smiled, sitting down next to Frida. Harry followed and gave her some pancakes, resting the napkin-nestled silverware down on the table and taking a moment to touch her hand again. She watched him sit down, looking so exquisitely handsome and at home there in her space, before adding, “Or maybe I just want you so badly.”

“I want Harry, too,” Frida added wisely. “He can hold me up so high I touch da ceiling.”

“Mmm,” Caitlin said in response to her first bite of warm, buttery-blueberry pancake deliciousness and…other things. Like the white-hot look Harry shot her across the table or the way he nudged his foot against hers. “He does that,” she added archly.

She reached over to wipe some crumbs from Frida’s chin, just as a loud bang announced an intruder’s arrival at the door. Caitlin jerked up instantly and grabbed Frida into her arms. Harry lunged for his energy rifle, which he’d stowed in the closet, and pointed to the bedroom. “Take Frida and hide,” he urged raggedly.

“Harry, you should stay with Frida, let me be Killer Frost and take care of this,” Caitlin answered just as insistently. 

Harry’s mouth dropped open in the realization that there was no time to argue the point, and she wasn’t backing down. Another bang slammed against the door right before it popped open, and Frida just gave Caitlin a casually curious look as a ski-masked assailant appeared, gun raised. “I bwing da boom,” she announced, right before the gun exploded in the intruder’s face. 

The man’s body flew backwards and hit the hallway wall hard, and Caitlin buried Frida’s face in her shoulder so that the child wouldn’t see the violence she’d created in instinctual self defense.

“Or that,” Harry mused drily, running over to check on the down-for-the-count invader. “He’s dead,” he mouthed to Caitlin when he came back over. 

“Yes, quite,” Clifford DeVoe noted with eerie calm, prompting Caitlin and Harry to stare over at the window, where the Thinker hovered in his super-powered chair, his eyes glued to Frida. Though he still resided in Dominic Lanse's body, that trademark DeVoe nastiness shone in his malevolent eyes. “I’ve come to retrieve my meta. And please, young one, do not attempt to blow me up. I am quite safe-guarded against your abilities, but you might cause harm to others if you should try.”

“Don’t do the boom,” Caitlin instructed Frida, knowing she wouldn’t be able to understand DeVoe’s words.

“But Caylin, he took mommy,” Frida complained in a high-pitched whine. 

“Hold still, please,” DeVoe said in a sickly inviting tone. Several more armed, masked lackeys came filing in, ensuring that Caitlin and Harry had no way to prevent being captured along with Frida. If the child used her powers now, there was no telling what damage might occur due to whatever modifications DeVoe had made to his chair in order to deflect her blasts.

“It’s going to be okay,” Caitlin told Frida in a soothing voice, repeating it one too many times until she was entirely unconvinced this was the case. _Think, find a solution,_ she demanded of herself. _Think faster._

She saw her thoughts reflected in Harry’s eyes, the same self-blame for so easily leading DeVoe to Frida’s location, the same feeling of responsibility for getting them out of this fix. On the bright side, at least they were a step closer to reuniting the girl with her mother, despite this being the worst possible way to achieve the goal.

“It is, Caitlin,” Harry reassured her, his hand warm and firm on her shoulder as he took a shielding posture in front of her and Frida. There he went again, despite the impossible odds, convincing her. His jaw twitched with tense worry, but his stubborn certainty remained intact. “It’s going to be fine.”


	4. Add your light to mine

“ _What,_ do you have some kind of real estate monopoly on these creepy abandoned warehouses, DeVoe?” Harry called out irritably, rubbing the back of his head after he was kicked violently from the armored van into a space matching the usual villain’s lair description. He stood as Caitlin did the same, having kept Frida closely clutched in her arms to shield the child as they were ousted from the vehicle.

“Kind of a pathetically predictable Central City baddie M.O. for the ‘world’s smartest man,’ if you ask me,” He continued, raising his husky voice and scanning the environs. There was nothing in the room save for countless bins and boxes — probably weapons and other contraband to help advance DeVoe’s financial stake in the criminal underworld, which he used to fund his continued research and wicked schemes.

A door opened far across the enormous room while the echoes of Harry’s voice faded out. As a woman was shoved into the room by a henchman who immediately disappeared, the door slammed behind her. And Frida struggled against Caitlin’s embrace for the first time.

“Mama!” Frida screamed desperately. A startled Caitlin set the girl down, watching as the petite, mid-twenties brunette woman hobbled across the room on a limp, injured leg, arms stretched out to her child. Frida closed the distance, never having toddled so rapidly and with such coordination. 

“My baby,” the woman sobbed, collapsing to the cement floor and rocking Frida in her arms.

Harry wrapped an arm around Caitlin’s shoulders as tears sprang into her eyes, seeing herself supplanted by Frida’s real mom and knowing that was only right and natural. She rested her head on his shoulder, reaching to take his hand and stroke his fingers. “I’m okay,” she lied.

“Come on,” Harry encouraged gently, taking Caitlin’s hand and bringing back home to her the fact that they were _together_ now. The realization was a definite salve to her broken-hearted confusion over the maternal feelings which had been growing within her only to be too soon ripped away.

“Hi,” Caitlin said softly, sinking to the floor in front of Frida and her mother. Harry squeezed her fingers before releasing them. “I’m Caitlin Snow and this is Harry Wells. We work at Star Labs; we’re the ones who…”

“You found my baby that night,” the woman guessed, giving Caitlin a tremulous smile, reaching over Frida’s shoulder to grasp her hand. “Thank you. I can see she’s been well taken care of. I am Magdalena.”

“You’re /not!/“ Frida complained, stomping her foot. “You’re mama!”

Magdalena laughed. “There’s that temper I’ve been missing.” Looking up at Caitlin and then Harry, she asked quietly, tensely, “Do you know what he’s planning?”

“I’m fairly certain DeVoe wanted to get the two of you together to take your powers at the same time, possibly jump his consciousness into your body, Magdalena. But we won’t let him. Snow, are you feeling frosty yet?” Harry looked at her expectantly.

Caitlin let Harry's words about DeVoe’s plan sink in and felt the anger and fear spiking all over again. As the icy vapors started pouring out from her hands, she looked into his eyes and smiled as if to say _I'll come back to you._ He nodded, smiling back trustingly as the transition completed itself and Killer Frost emerged.

“Who dat? Where’s Caylin?” Frida groused.

“Don’t worry, kid, Caity will be back,” Frost reassured her, glancing over at Harry. “Hey geek. What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to have to get less technical and more tactical,” he said immediately. 

“You’re getting ready to roll up your sleeves, science man,” Killer Frost purred. “I approve. And I agree. Trying to outsmart DeVoe was always Team Flash’s first mistake. The only way to get the jump on that man is to literally get the jump on him. We have to get violent.” 

She looked at Magdalena, her blue lips pursed. “Keep that kid close, mama. This isn’t going to be pretty.” Smiling, she added, “But it _is_ gonna be fun.”

The ceiling opened above them as DeVoe’s chair hovered downward, coming to a stop in front of his prisoners. 

“Hello, all,” he smirked, still wearing Lanse’s handsome face like a mask. “I’m sorry to announce that for you, Magdalena and Frida dears, life as you know it is at an end. But to usher in the Enlightenment, sacrifices are needed. Now, I’ve already told you that I’m well-fortified against your abilities, mother and child. As to you, my frozen beauty, I suggest you stay well back and mind your own business unless you’d like me to detour from my master plan and suck out your powers as well. They would certainly come in handy.”

Killer Frost examined DeVoe’s chair carefully, familiarizing herself with its wires and circuitry, keenly evaluating the most vulnerable spots where the hardware connected with its user’s body. Harry gave her a tiny nod as her eyes landed on the large tube running from the back of DeVoe’s skull to the headrest of the chair. 

Without preamble, Frost raised her hands and shot an icy blast straight at the tube until it froze, causing DeVoe a strangled cry of discomfort. The chair, absent its ruler’s presence of mind to steer it, crashed to the floor. Harry rushed forward and grabbed DeVoe by the helmet before punching him soundly in the face, knocking him out. 

“I guess you didn’t account for that eventuality in your calculations,” Harry said crisply, shaking out his hand. “Frost, would you do the honors?”

“Never been so happy to oblige, geek,” she agreed, freezing DeVoe’s body. “One supersmart popsicle all ready for that special cell Cisco’s been prepping at Star Labs.”

“Thank you,” he told Killer Frost politely as Magdalena limped carefully forward with Frida in her arms. The mother set the child down next to Frost, who regarded the little one as if she was a strange scientific specimen.

“DeVoe said he reconfigured his chair’s technology so that if I meddled with it using my abilities, it would attack and kill me,” Magdalena explained in a thick, musical Chilean accent. “But what he didn’t consider was that I could simply override his defense matrix. That’s because he’s all ego and no insight.” She closed her eyes and touched her fingers to each side of her forehead. Moments later, the chair burst out in sparks before all of its lights faded out and it sat as dormant as the unconscious DeVoe.

“He thought he understood the full spectrum of my abilities, but no one can do that unless they possess the power themselves, unless they live inside it,” Magdalena elaborated proudly. Smiling warmly, she said, “Thank you both for taking care of my Frida.”

“I’m impressed, sparky,” Killer Frost said wryly, giving Magdalena a high five. 

“Well done. And you’re more than welcome for the childcare,” Harry put in. “It was our pleasure.”

“Hawwy make pancakes! And kiss Caylin and make her smile,” Frida recapped as Harry blushed and Killer Frost shot him an amused look.

“Come here, tall, dark and nerdy,” Frost invited, crooking her finger at Harry. “Give us a kiss. She’ll come back to you. You know it.”

Harry nodded, putting a hand on each of her freezing shoulders, not flinching as waves of pain shot through his fingers from her power. He leaned in and kissed her shiny parted lips, shivering as Killer Frost’s vapors passed from her mouth to his own. But before he could absorb enough of the icy air to need to pull back and cough, her mouth was warm again, his fingers sliding down Caitlin’s shoulders beneath her tousled, blonde-streaked brunette hair. 

“I think she was giving you tongue,” Caitlin said disapprovingly when they pulled back from each other reluctantly. “I’m going to write her a stern post-it about that.” Harry laughed and she grinned in return, adding, “Not that I really blame her.” 

A shiver went down each of their spines as they thought of all the things they hadn’t had the chance to do together. It was all so new, the not lying, not hiding their feelings…expressing them physically. 

“Harry…” Caitlin smiled, “Do you wanna go out sometime?”

“Hmmm,” he considered, taking both of her hands and lacing their fingers together, leveling her with a sly, sexy smile. “I think that’d be nice.”

“Nice? That’s the best adjective you can come up with?” She lifted her brows, tingling at the sensation of their fingers brushing together.

“In mixed company, Snow,” he winked.

Just then, the outside doors flew open as a a bright red light came zooming through them, soon followed by a blast of vibe energy. Barry came skidding to a stop, panting slightly from anxiety, as Cisco looked around with sharp suspicion, both of them clearly thinking they would arrive in a raging battle or hopefully just in time to stop DeVoe’s next murder.

“We tracked your phones,” Barry sighed, shocked at the _lack_ of chaos occurring on the scene. “Disappearing and having your phones ping at the stereotypical abandoned warehouse is just never good. So we came in a hurry.”

“Hey guys,” Caitlin said, beaming proudly. “Thanks for the back-up. But we got it this time. Thanks in large part to Magdalena here.”

“Well, you _could_ help us take out the trash,” Harry suggested, nodding at DeVoe’s slumped-over body. 

“Oh,” Barry said in surprise, rubbing his neck, then shrugging. “Okay. _Wow._ After all that, _this_ is how we bring down DeVoe? I’m a little jealous, but…” he chuckled. “Great job, guys. This is surreal.” He let out a deep breath, almost afraid to let go of the stress and tension of months spent fighting DeVoe.

“I hope there’s a way we can bring Dominic back,” Cisco pondered, crouching in front of the young man’s hijacked body. “We can start trying as soon as he’s safely locked up.” 

“So, you’re Frida’s mom,” Barry enthused, shaking hands with Magdalena. “That’s some kid you’ve got there. And a mom who can help take out the Thinker? I’m glad you’re on our side.”

“You should be, Flash,” Magdalena laughed. “And who are you, handsome?” She peeked over at Cisco, who blushed.

“Uh,” he said, straightening and smoothing out his hair, “I’m Cisco Ramon. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Magdalena Morales,” she elaborated with a twinkle in her warm brown eyes. “ _Single_ mom.”

“He’s seeing someone on Earth 2,” Harry swept in to say, saving Cisco from a helpless stream of babble. 

“Oh, well,” Magdalena shrugged. “I’ll be around if that ever changes. Till then, can I consider myself an honorary member of the Star Labs team?”

“Only if you put your hand in the pile right now,” Barry declared, and little Frida’s fingers ended up on top as they all cheered and flung their hands up in the air.

***************************************************************************************

“Think that cell will hold DeVoe long enough for us to find a way to get Dominic back?” Harry asked, trailing Caitlin to the door of her apartment late that night. By now, in fact, it was very late…he pulled his phone from his pocket and saw it was 2am.

Morning, just as much as night. A good time for taking chances.

She flipped her luscious tresses around her shoulders as she smiled at him, turning the key in the lock of her door. The hallway was abandoned, silence all around. 

“Funny you should ask me that, when you already know the answer. You helped Cisco redesign the cell. And since we've already talked about how glad we are that Magdalena's leg is bandaged and should heal well, and that she and Frida are back together, maybe that's about all you had left to say? It almost seems like you’re making awkward small talk, Harry.” She didn’t open the door yet, but turned around and leaned against it, releasing her hand from the knob. 

He rested one hand on the wall and leaned towards her, his self-conscious chuckle fading into a more serious expression. Caitlin’s breath caught at the blatantly desirous way his blue gaze enveloped her. 

“Maybe I was just filling in time working up the nerve to ask to come in,” he admitted, his soft voice melting her until she thought her legs would wobble and she’d faint away.

“Harry, you don’t ever have to ask. Not when I never want you to leave,” she promised him, her voice wavering. 

She felt the boldness of her words, the “long-term relationship” phrasing so inherent in them, and averted her eyes, nervous, pressing her berry-tinted lips together. Her head was bent, her golden-brown gaze fixed on the floor.

“Hey,” he murmured, dipping his head beneath hers and angling it awkwardly, but in a completely cute gesture, all designed to catch her lips with his own. It was too difficult; all he could do was brush them, but then she laughed softly and brought her head back up, reaching her arms up around his neck and drawing his face to hers. 

“Caitlin,” he said between kisses, dizzily loving the way she was absolutely covering his mouth with her lipstick, the raspberry taste of her making him lick his lips, “I don’t wanna leave either."

He pressed her against the door, hands roving over her back and massaging her skin through her cobalt sheath dress, the material moving up and down beneath his fingers, the zipper gently grazing her skin until thoughts of him pulling it down made her crazy.

And then he kissed her so many times that the only remainder of her lipstick was a pale smear on each of their faces. She looked up at him when they pulled back for the benefit of breathing, her heart pounding savagely, as much his as the rest of her.

“So…we’ve never even been on a date, unless coffees at Jitters count,” he told her thoughtfully, making her laugh. She was still a bit breathless, hanging on his every word.

“Well, in our case, I think it counts since I spent the whole time wishing we _were_ officially calling it a date,” Caitlin admitted, wincing comically as if the memory of the smothered desire embarrassed her. 

How wonderful that they both knew nothing could be less embarrassing. So much so that the time they spent longing together in silence now seemed cute, sweet, and precious, where it used to be confusing and saddening. 

He was turning her world rightside up again. It hadn’t been that way in forever.

“All the better,” Harry said, flashing those dimples proudly. “Well, then. Even though we’ve only been on a couple of coffee dates, Snow, I…”

“ _Whaaaaat?_ ” She grinned, dying to know what he was thinking.

His long, lean body was still pressed close to her own, her hands cradling his neck, their gazes comfortably locked, his adorably nerdy glasses no impediment to this connection. He gave that tiny flinch of hesitation as if this was really important, and that’s when her heart skipped a beat and her flushed skin burned hotter.

“I don’t wanna come in until I say this. I love you,” Harry admitted, making her spine tingle and her lips part — not exactly in surprise.

The shock she felt was more of realizing that happiness truly wasn’t gone from her life despite the many times her heart had been broken. It was standing right in front of her, beaming out of Harry’s eyes and his sweetly anxious smile awaiting her response. No, she hadn't gotten over her sadness about perhaps not becoming a mother one day, but...if she and Harry could make this work, maybe there _were_ other things not so impossible as they seemed. 

“Ohhh, Harry,” she sighed gently, cupping his face with one of her hands, stroking his lovely cheekbones. “I love you, too. _So_ much.” 

As they started kissing again, Harry’s hand found the doorknob and pushed it open so that they could walk blindly into her dark apartment, hands and lips all over each other, more eagerly exploring — his mouth on her neck, her hands sliding down his back and reaching lower — until he belatedly remembered to slam the door and she laughed in delighted anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting a new chapter published! I have a totally ridiculous, unmanageable number of WIP's but they are all special to me and I intend to finish this one :) 
> 
> Question: does anyone want me to up the rating to Mature and put a smut scene in the next chapter? Cuz...I could be persuaded.


	5. Baby it's you

“Harry!” Caitlin gasped sometime after he’d swept her off her feet and squinted through her dim apartment until his intent motivation allowed him to locate the bed, lowering her to it as he went on feverishly devouring her lips.

Hands pressed to her ass, mouth hot against hers, he paused, hovering his body over her in the darkness as she lay there, legs hooking up around his hips, fingers clinging to his collar, tugging him as close as possible. “Yes, Snow?” He was panting, and when she shamelessly reached down to feel his erection, she gasped again, louder. He was rock hard and…so big…her pink cheeks turned bright red as her breathy answer tickled his lips.

“Don’t stop,” she blurted, and the irony of her interruption made them both laugh until they started tugging and unbuttoning each others’ clothes, causing all laughter to die away into kiss-smothered moans. Caitlin whipped Harry’s sweater and t-shirt over his head and roved her eager hands over his slim yet muscled torso, delving them down over his back and grabbing his ass with greedy enthusiasm. She wanted her hands and her lips all over every inch of his skin and was only all too grateful that his lust seemed to exactly mirror her own.

Harry kissed his way down Caitlin’s neck, gently biting her as she sighed and bucked her hips up against him, grazing his arousal. “God,” he growled, licking and sucking at her neck, cupping her breasts as she tried futilely to unzip her dress, pinned to the soft mattress by his body on top of her. “Roll over,” he ordered simply, huskily, causing a shock of arousal to jolt through Caitlin’s core as her panties dampened. He was so sexy when he was bossy in bed that she thought, not for the first time this evening, she was probably about to faint.

She rolled over onto her stomach, pressing her palms into the blanket and then gripping it as he slowly unzipped her dress, kissing each new area of her pale, smooth back which was revealed until he slid the garment deftly from her shoulders, down over her bottom and her shaking legs, tossing it to the floor. Peeking over her shoulder through a haze of tousled curls, she saw him shrug off the black jeans she’d already unbuttoned, kicking off his boots and yanking his socks off before coming back to her, smiling in desirous fascination as she lay there in her lacy black bra and panties, both of them see-through and quite insubstantial. 

“Caitlin,” he murmured, blown away by her beauty, lowering his lips to the small of her back , hooking his fingers into the sides of her panties and pausing. “Still don’t want me to stop?”

“I still want you to make love to me, Harry,” she said in a gulp of overpowering need, “Just like I have from the first time our eyes met.”

“Me too,” he grinned boyishly, so adorable she bit her lip, eyes glowing as she watched him. “Ummm…” So absurdly awkward, but he could turn on a dime and be erotically dominating. How could he combine these dissonant qualities so effortlessly? Caitlin thought it would take many experiments to fully analyze Harry Wells, and she was past ready to start testing her many hypotheses. “Protection?” His brow furrowed, his eyes apologetic at the afterthought. 

“Pill,” she smirked, “Now get back to what you were doing…please.”

“Don’t you dare wink at me,” he replied smoothly, palms and fingers sweeping over her rear end and feeling her silky curves over and around her panties. 

Naturally, she winked immediately, causing him to yank her underwear down and off while she gasped and pressed her face into the bed, nails clutching at the blankets. He cupped her soft ass cheeks, his procedure suspiciously calm before he suddenly gave her a swift, light spank and she sighed sharply as her pussy squeezed excitedly, the blanket beneath her getting wet. The urge to grind into the bed was too strong when he had her this heated up, and as he paused before making another move, she slid up and down, rolling her eyes up and moaning at the friction, her body crying out to feel him inside her, desperate for release from the sweet tension he brought to her every nerve ending. 

“Slow down,” he cautioned playfully, but she liked the probable result of her rebellion a little too much and ground her pussy into the bed again as he watched her delicate body from his vantage point above her, finally stopping her with two more, firmer spanks.

“Harry,” she sighed ecstatically as he lowered his face, kissing her ass where he’d slapped it, gently urging her to get up onto her knees, her face and hands still pressed to the bed. Spreading her cheeks, he kissed her pussy from behind as she yelped in pleasure at the sensation of his tongue delving between her sopping folds.

“Mmm,” he responded thickly, “Roll over again.” He leveled her with a gaze equal parts mischief and adoration as he pinned one of her wrists, kissing her breasts, licking and sucking her nipples as her other hand landed in his hair, tangling it around her fingers and tugging. Her hips jutted up into him as his cock strained huge against his boxer briefs and she gave a throaty moan when his big fingers grazed her bare sex, teasing her entrance as he kissed her mouth then drew back to lick his lips suggestively. “You’re so delicious,” he informed her with that combined seriousness and playfulness that threw her for a loop. She got the implication that he had every intention of going down on her, but she shook her head stubbornly.

“Next time,” she insisted, releasing his hair and grabbing him by his back, running her nails lightly over his skin as he gasped. “I need you to take me. Now.”

“Language, Snow,” he said as his eyes twinkled and she relaxed her body, wrist blissfully limp in his grasp, ankles lazily hooked around his back, long blonde-strewn brunette locks strewn across the bed. He looked at her glazed eyes, her messy hair and kiss-swollen lips, her nipples taut and her pert breasts ripe beneath him. Sighing and shaking his head, he smiled, helplessly hers. “Caitlin, you’re unbelievably gorgeous.” She trailed her nails over the warm skin on his back, the friction teasing him as she staring up into his bright blue eyes and he pushed his briefs down, sliding his rigid erection between her folds.

Her voice devolved into a series of hectic moans as he entered her, and all they could both think was that in that moment they could finally breathe again. 

As Caitlin wrapped her arms around his shoulders, touching his skin as much as she wanted to, making up for all that lost time, she wound her free hand through his dark, wavy hair, his lips buried in her neck as he inhaled her scent of raspberries the way he had dreamed of so many times. He used to stare at her neck, at her lustrous hair when she wasn’t looking; he used to have to tear his eyes away from her beautiful body day after day, but now they belonged to each other. Harry muttered her name possessively and thrust into her with long, slow attention while Caitlin soothed him, moaning softly and caressing him, thinking how she’d wanted to hear him falling apart for her over the years of him tersely calling her Snow and giving her _that_ look in the lab. That tortured look that came and went too fast, the one that said she wasn’t alone in this longing.

How could they have predicted the way they would complete each other? Rolling over and over again in her sheets, laughing and gasping, finding every way to drive each other wild until they were coming faster and faster…there was no way they could have dreamed anything close to this reality before they surrendered to it. The repressed scientist versions of Harry and Caitlin had denied themselves the possibility of this happiness for so long that they were blinded to the way it was right there in front of them for the taking.

They couldn’t have predicted, either, the way it would feel when Caitlin walked down the aisle the following year and made Harry’s eyes fill with tears of joy and desire at the sight of her in that stunning, sexy wedding dress, all decadent lace and wobbly smiles. When she spoke her vows in that sweet, trembling voice, solemn and dedicated, Harry knew they would live happily ever after. But he still couldn’t have envisioned their children, the twins, adorable, silly, chubby, beautiful babies to whom Killer Frost was the proudest aunt ever. Caitlin had been too convinced she’d never be a mom to think that one day she’d stand in the kitchen of the house she shared with her husband, with _Harry_ , watching her own little girl and boy running around with their clever and precocious friend Frida in the backyard, yelping and leaping and swinging so high it looked like their little feet would burst through the clouds. 

A bit of faith and belief in happiness could go a long way, she thought that day, nuzzling her head into Harry’s chest as he tightened his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head with a deeply contented sigh. Anything could happen. The sky was truly the limit.


End file.
